


Winter Cherry

by sedanlon



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Character Deaths, Main Character With Negative Self Image, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:00:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12871932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sedanlon/pseuds/sedanlon





	1. Chapter 1

Stanley Uris was mostly a loner, but he liked it best that way. It was safer for everyone, he knew. His friend, Richie, disagreed, however. Richie thought Stan should go to school with him. Yes, it was a special sort of school made specially for mutants to go to, but that did not mean the people working there would be able to protect everyone from his power. It was more of a curse, he thought. Everything he touched just died in the blink of an eye. Touch the grass? Dead. A tree? Dead. Everything he even brushed lightly died. So, he wore gloves and turtlenecks, even on the hottest days of the summer.  
He didn't want to go to a school where he would have to be careful of everyone there. He already had to be cautious around his only friend and saw no reason to add a hundred something other kids to that equation.  
It was simple; Stan stayed away from people and people stayed away from Stan. That was how it should be. It was the most safe that way. So when suddenly his parents were pushing with Richie to get him to go to this school, he was partly confused and partly upset. He did want to know people, but he didn't want to hurt them, and he was bound to kill someone at some point if they weren't too careful around him or vice versa.  
No one he knew seemed to get the message, though. Richie brought it up every time they spoke, saying things about how fun it was and how much he would love the classes. Stan was getting fed up with it, and even entertained the idea of going just to shut up everyone else.  
But he didn't go. Not for a whole school year. Eight, maybe nine months, Stan stood his ground and refused to go. Everyone who knew him kept hammering him to go, however, and after months of thought and processing the pros and cons, he decided to just go.  
Richie was elated to hear the news. Really. He wouldn't shut up about it the whole time he helped Stan pack his things. Stan simply rolled his eyes and tuned the loud mouthed kid out until they were done packing. When they were done packing, though, they sat down at the foot of Stan’s bed in silence.  
“I'm honestly scared right now, Richie,”  
“Scared? Why?” Richie questioned. He wasn't the best at staying quiet, but he could do it to listen to Stan.  
“I kill people with just a light touch. You realise me being at this school means I have increased chances of accidentally killing someone, right?”  
Rich nodded. “I do realise that, Stan. I do. It's just that you're so lonely all the time and I think it's worth the risk if you get to meet new people and make good friends that aren't me. It'll be worth it, I swear. And if it isn't, if you really give it a chance and can't do it, then I'll get you back home myself. Deal?”  
“Okay, sure, deal,” Stan sighs.  
“Aye, I knew you had some sense. Not as much as your mother, but-”  
“Shut up Richie,”  
They looked at each other for a split second and both laughed quietly. Stan had to admit, he cared deeply about Richie and was glad his friend was showing caring just as deep, even through his stupid jokes. He truly was a great friend.

When the time came for them to get going, the realisation of just how scared he was came to him like a weight falling right on top of him in attempt to crush him. He didn't want to hurt anyone. That had always been the last thing he wanted. But then Richie was there, and he gave Stan a new pair of gloves, thick and almost leathery, yet flexible and easy to move.  
“Figured you might need a new pair. Seems all that time in the church made your gloves as holey as you wanna be,”  
“Thanks, and I appreciate it, but shut up,” Stan stated as he took the gloves. He went to take of his old, worn ones and noticed that Richie's joke had a bit of truth to it; the gloves were getting a few holes in them.  
“Alright, fine, cool. But you should know that those gloves that I just handed you are the best material and I saved up for a long time to get them. They won't be getting holes any time in the next ten or so years, so you won't need new ones too soon! Which saves me a lot of hassle with getting you cheap ones all the time for your birthdays. I can be more creative now!” And the dork let his hair become bright highlighter yellow just for the fun of it. Stan grinned; he honestly couldn't think of a power that would be more annoying for Richie to have, but it was fitting.  
“That's pretty nice! Thanks, Rich,” Stan really appreciated the gloves. He finally got to putting them on and wow, they felt nice. He could tell they had to have been really expensive.  
“Anything for a best friend,”  
They were waiting for the bus all this time, and the loud release of steam alerted them that they needed to go get on. The two stood and went to go inside. Stan was getting prepared to pay, but Richie did something that shocked him.  
“We're headed to Sharon Denbrough’s School for Mutants,” he said. The driver just nodded and motioned for them to head back. Stan was rather confused by this.  
“Why did he just let us go?”  
“He’s a mutant. He takes us schoolkids to the school for free because when he was young he suffered a lot of oppression. He wants us to be able to go safely.” Richie explains.  
Stan nods, thinking deeply. It was strange, seeing another mutant. “What's his power?”  
“Telekinesis, I believe. I've heard he uses it to save this bus from crashes and hitting pedestrians. Seems pretty cool, but I personally think there are cooler mutants out there. More original,”  
“You're just saying that,”  
“Yeah. But that's because of you and Eddie,”  
“I hear a lot about this Eddie. He's at the school?”  
“No shit Stanlock. Of course he's at the school; where else would he be?” Richie rolled his eyes and grinned.  
“Okay, okay, just making sure, gosh,” Stan replies, though anyone could see that he was grinning as well.  
The bus started to move, and Stan realised that they were officially going to the school. He held onto one of the poles and continued talking to Richie, but his mind was filling with doubt as they sped up and were suddenly moving. The original worries of accidentally killing someone were at the forefront of his mind.

The bus pulled to its final stop and the doors opened. Stan and Richie, who had since sat down as the bus emptied, stood up and went to the front.  
“This is is, boys. Enjoy that school; it's a blessing to have it,” the driver said to them.  
Richie thanked him and made some stupid joke that Stan didn't really hear. As he followed his best friend out of the bus and onto new territory, he could only think of what a huge mistake this probably was. It was too late to make a change, of course, but he still regretted coming.  
“Rich, I'm still not sure this was a great idea,”  
“I thought you wanted to meet Eddie! Come on, you're gonna kill my mood before anything else with that attitude,”  
“Are you seriously going to go there?”  
“Already did. Now come on! It's seriously like three yards away. That's less than fifty steps. Get a move on,” Richie took Stan’s suitcase from him and started speed walking off. Stan jogged to catch up, sighing. He knew he wouldn't win with this kid.  
They passed through the gate that separated the normal world from a school full of mutants. Stan looked around in awe at it. There was a large field before him that had kids using their powers in various ways, and an immense amount of plants and wildlife. It was the most gorgeous thing he could ever remember seeing in his life. Richie looked back to see him gaping at the scenery and grinned.  
“So I take it you like it?” he asks to confirm.  
“It certainly looks nice. Can't jump to conclusions just yet,”  
“Well then let's get you to Mrs. Denbrough. She'll show you the good stuff and get you settled in,” he started walking towards a building, “you're gonna love it. And her. She's a great head to the school and has an awesome power. Her son goes here too, but he's little. Cute kid though.”  
“Richie,”  
“Hmm?”  
“Shush,”  
The boy listened, but didn't stop walking. Stan took a deep breath; it was going to be an interesting day. He knew that, but when Richie dropped the suitcase and went running, Stan was even more certain. He was pretty sure his best friend had yelled “EDDIE”, but he had been pretty deep in though so he wasn't sure until he saw a boy significantly shorter than Richie walking back with him.  
“So this is the famous Eddie?” he asks. Richie nods.  
“And you must be Stan. Nice to finally meet you,” the boy responds with a grin. He holds his hand out in greeting. With some hesitation due to habit, Stan takes it and shakes his hand.  
“Guys guys guys we should get Stan to Mrs. Denbrough! Come on!” Richie once again grabs the suitcase and goes walking off to the building he had been headed to when he saw Eddie. The other two followed him just a bit behind the suitcase.  
Stan was mostly observing the people around out of curiosity. There were kids levitating and making fire spark in their hands and turning things to what looked like ceramic with just a touch. He looked over to Eddie and noticed the fingerless gloves he was wearing.  
“Hey, Eddie, just wondering, what makes you a mutant?”  
“I make things show their true form by touching it. Like, if Richie were to change himself to look like, say, you, I could touch his arm and he would change back to himself,” Eddie explained.  
“Is that why you wear the fingerless gloves or..?”  
“Oh, those are mostly just a fashion statement, but they are useful for that, too,”  
Stan nodded and went back to looking around before he noticed they were about to walk up the steps to the building. He noticed just in time for him to step up, walking up to the door behind Richie and, now, Eddie. They walked inside, and Stan found himself gaping at his surroundings. It was a room with a high ceiling and gorgeous paintings on the walls. He looked at it all, almost overwhelmed by the amount of beauty in this room alone. It was almost more overwhelming than outside.  
A woman came in through one of the doorways. She had her hair falling loosely around her shoulders, though half of it was pulled up into something of a bun where her hair looped and came out of the hair band into a cascading ponytail. She smiled at Stan.  
“Mister Uris, I assume,” her voice was pleasant, something like honey, but also firm. Stan nodded.  
“Um, yes, I'm Stan Uris,”  
“Well, Stan. Welcome to my school for mutants,”


	2. Chapter 2

The next thing Stan knew, he was being led outside and Richie and Eddie were waving goodbye to him. His suitcase was still in the building, and he was feeling very overwhelmed by it all. He blinked rapidly and took a deep breath to calm down without crashing into something. Mrs. Denbrough was walking well ahead of him, he noticed, so he scrambled to catch up.  
“Glad to see you made it to your tour, finally,” she smiled. Stan couldn't help but laugh and reply with a ‘yeah’.  
“Richie has told me about your power already. I’m sure it’s a hard thing to live with,”  
Stan thought about it before nodding. “It is, but I’m used to it,”  
He was, after all. Right from birth he nearly killed his mother. Luckily his power wasn’t strong enough to kill her at the time. His second encounter was actually with Richie, who hadn’t known about the power yet and accidentally grabbed his hand. That was why he started wearing gloves; he didn’t want to hurt anyone ever again. As he grew, he sort of closed himself off from others just in case he came in contact with someone who could be killed.  
“Considering that you were born with it, I’m not surprised. All of us kind of have to be. It’s rather sad you were born with what you have, though. Here, however, we’ll help you hone and control your power so that there won’t be any more accidents,”  
Stan wondered how he could control a power with such destructive force. A power like his wasn't meant to be controlled. That's what he had always thought, at least.  
“How so?” he asked after a moment. He was genuinely curious, after all.  
Mrs. Denbrough went right to explaining. “Well, I think that due to the way your ability works, it won't be something you can stop and start, like someone with a mutation similar to myself. This will be more figuring out if you can make the power more or less strong of your own will, or if we'll have to tailor something that will protect your ability from others so no one gets hurt. I want you to be able to interact with people still; that's my prime function here,”  
Stan nodded and went back to thinking. He figured it made enough sense to try and pulse the energy so that he didn't always kill whoever it was touching him right away. He looked around, seeing people practising with their abilities. There was a group of kids with various elements conjured straight from their hands that they were passing right then.  
“There's a few people I want you to meet and get to know, Mr. Uris. They're friends of Mr. Tozier, and I think they will be good companions for you to have in the future,”  
They were approaching a group of five people, only one of which was a girl. There was one boy who looked significantly younger than the others, but the ready seemed to be of the same general age.  
The first who caught his eye was the girl. She was the odd one in the group, with what looked like tattoos all over her freckled arms. Her hair was a sort of reddish ginger, and she was laughing as they came to a stop next to the group.  
They looked at him when he stopped behind Mrs. Denbrough, and though there was only five of them there, it was almost overwhelming.  
“Stan, this is Beverly, Ben, Mike, and my sons Bill and Georgie. Everyone, Stan,” she placed a hand on Stan's shoulder as she went to leave and whispered “You'll like them, I promise. Have fun,”  
While Mrs. Denbrough had pointed out who was who, Stan had already forgotten most of their names. He took a deep breath and made an attempt to say hello or introduce himself, but he realised the last time he had made a friend was Richie, and that was more natural than this.  
“So, Stan, what’re you here for?” asks one of the boys. He was wearing overalls and a loose maroon tee shirt over his dark skin.  
“To learn how to get my mutation under control,”  
“I mean what makes you a mutant? You can sit, too, you know,”  
Stan slowly lets himself down to sit on the cool grass. He sighed. “I don't like talking about my ability, but I kill with one touch,”  
The girl piped up. “Hey! Exact opposite of our boy Mike here. He gives life,” she said with a grin. Her voice was very friendly and peppy; it had a sort of bounce to it. Stan looked at the boy she had referenced, the one in the overalls. He wasn't sure how to feel about it all.  
“Oh, cool. Could you remind me all of your names? I'm usually okay with them but my head was swimming when she told me and, well, I honestly didn't really hear them,” Stan asked in attempt to remember their names and keep something of a conversation going.  
“No problem! I'm Beverly. Most people call me Bev, though. You can too. Then I already mentioned Mike, and-”  
“I'm Ben, Beverly’s boyfriend,” introduced a slightly heavyset boy who was sitting next to the redhead with a warm smile.  
The youngest looked up from his little play world and grinned. “I'm Georgie, and this is my big brother Bill!” he introduced, indicating the boy beside him who had a quiet look about him.  
Stan nodded slowly, mentally noting each of their names and faces so as to not forget them later on.  
“Nice to meet you all… Mind if I ask what makes you guys mutant?” he continued. He figured he could navigate a conversation well enough if he thought of the nonfiction books he had read over the summers.  
The boy Georgie had called Bill looked at Stan a bit more directly to address him. “I'm not a mutant. Just here with my mom since she runs the place,”  
Georgie said nothing, but instead showed off what he had been doing earlier. Stan now realised that he had been using his power to make shapes out of water from a small tank of sorts. The kid was pretty talented despite his age. Not much of a surprise to Stan, considering the boy was the son of the school’s owner.  
On the other side of the circle, Beverly shifted. Stan turned to look at her and noticed her tattoos seemed to be moving along her arms. They unfurled themselves and suddenly her arms were bare and there were beautiful wings reflecting the late morning sun. What Stan had thought were tattoos ended up being a part of her power.  
“I fly, as well as breathe air in which there is little oxygen,”  
She let her wings go back around her arms, delicately sliding along like snakes, though much smoother.  
“I do essentially the opposite. I breathe underwater and at very low levels below sea,” Ben said once she had settled and laid her head on his shoulder. Stan nodded and turned to Mike. He knew they had opposite powers, since Beverly had said so. Yet still, Mike smiled and took a moment to locate where he could demonstrate. He stood after a moment and walked to a small patch of dead grass, letting his sandals slip off behind him. His eyes closed and Stan watched along with the group to see the brown become green and the dead become living. It was a rather beautiful ordeal, Stan thought.  
“Wow,” was all he could say in response to the group's amazing abilities. He somehow felt smaller and more terrible. They could make things seem beautiful, new, and cause people to appreciate the beauty of what was around them, while Stan was left with a power that did nothing but destroy and kill.  
But he saw Richie walking over, and remembered why he was here. This wasn't for anyone else, it was for his best friend. His really annoying best friend, but still.  
“Mike. Mrs. Denbrough would, wouldn't she?”  
Mike quirked an eyebrow questioningly at the boy who was now sporting pink hair.  
“She's so superstitious, believes all those old kid stories. She's matchmaking like there's no tomorrow, even though her pairs generally work out,”  
A chorus of “Shut up Richie” sounded from everyone's mouths except Stan and Georgie.  
“No, Rich, explain. What do you mean?” Stan asked, turning towards the boy.  
Richie grinned strangely and then leaned toward Stan, so close he backed himself up in case their noses touched on accident.  
“Don't you remember what your parents always said about mutants with opposite abilities, Standra?”


	3. Chapter 3

His mother was a consistent breaker of mutant folklore, and though she told him much of it, she always reminded the boy that it was all just speculation and something of a children's story so they could believe in all good things.  
He remembered that the darkness was an invite to peace and safety from those who thought mutants should be dead or “controlled”, that each mutant was special and even if they had similar powers one person would have a different strength than the other, and that mutants met on accident were supposedly lifelong friends, but his mother had never once told him about one of the biggest tales in mutant superstitions.  
It was like all the stories where people were “meant to be”; the clichés that Stan always snorted at, though a lot of the time the stories were good in spite of the soulmate concept.  
It was the sound of his best friend’s voice that brought Stan back to earth. He was saying something about opposite powers, Eddie and himself, Bev and Ben. Stan hadn't caught all of it, and as such was rather confused.  
“So she thinks you and Mike are gonna be perfect for each other, too, which is fine and great and all but damn does Mrs. Denbrough run things along fast. It's like she's looking for good romance to gossip about with the other teachers,” Rich finished.  
“I'm sorry, what? I have honestly only managed to process the last two sentences you have said. Everything else is like white noise in my brain,”  
“Mutants. Opposite powers. Soulmates. Eds and I. Bev and Ben. You and Mike,” and then he was making kissy faces at his best friend as if to mimic what was going to happen.  
Stan paused for a moment. And then he laughed. He let out a howl of hysterical laughter, and continued laughing until he was tearing up. “You do know that shit is fake, right? Just like every other superstition mutants have. It's just for kids,” he choked out before laughing a moment more, finally starting to calm down.  
Everyone seemed to be thinking what the fuck at Stan’s behaviour towards this concept, because to them it was something that could easily be true.  
Had he been thinking properly, Stan would have probably thought the same thing of himself. He wouldn't have let anyone know it, but he was acting out of shock. Although he trusted his mother, he had always wondered if at least some of them were true. Maybe mutants you met unexpectedly were bound to become your best friend until the day you both died. Richie didn't seem to be going anywhere any time soon, after all. And the concept of soulmates was something he wanted desperately to believe in, but the idea of it being this boy who seemed nice enough and had a rather nice appearance  
(Stan couldn't lie to himself, honestly)  
the idea of them being soulmates was so utterly absurd he couldn't possibly believe it.  
“Stan. I know this sounds ridiculous coming from me, but calm the fuck down,” Richie blurted.  
Stan heaved a sigh. “You think I'm crazy for not believing it, don't you?”  
There was a silence, like a collective nod that no one wanted to make reality, as no one answered.  
“Thought so,” Stan muttered, “Well, to change the subject here, how about someone help me figure out where I'm supposed to be staying. I need to get my suitcase, as well. It was left in that main building,”  
Beverly stands up. “Your suitcase shouldn't be a problem. I'll go talk to Mrs. Denbrough about who your roommate will be and where that will be and let you know,”  
“Thanks, Bev,” Stan replied, trying out the nickname the girl had said to use. He rather liked saying something nice and short and simple. Though Richie was short for Richard, it was like the rare times he'd call the shapeshifter Rich. It was almost exhilarating to call people by nicknames.  
The redhead sashayed off after a planting a quick kiss on Ben’s forehead and waving to everyone, leaving the them alone with each other.  
Richie finally sat down, plopping crisscross next to Stan. “So, I see you all have met my best friend ever. Whatcha think of the guy?”  
Everyone's eyes spoke for them, all signalling Richie to be quiet. It was evident Stan could have made a better impression than he did, but he was grounded in what his mother told him all growing up. He would heed her words until his last breath; he had decided that when she passed on.   
“Can I ask something?” Georgie piped up, curious eyes looking directly at Stan. He nodded.  
“Why don't you believe in soulmates?”  
“I… I think it has to do with how I was raised. My mother married a non mutant. She told me she met her ‘soulmate’ and they never once got along, so I saw no reason to have to believe in them,” Stan explained. He wanted to provide a decent explanation while not giving too much information about himself, and he had gotten good at that over the years. The only hindering factor was Richie, of course, but he wasn't one to complain. Richie was a good friend, flaws and all.  
Beverly came flying backwards and almost crashed into the ground, somehow stopping herself before she hit the bottom. “Mrs. Denbrough says she'll show you later, but told me where it is if you wanna see now. Your stuff is already there. Ben, could you help me with the straps? Wings need to go,” she stated breathlessly but without a pause.  
Ben stood up to help Beverly out while Stan thought about what to do. As much as he wanted to try and make friends, he was already ready to be alone for a bit again. By the time Bev’ wings were back to looking like tattoos, he decided to at least check it out.  
“I want to at least have a general idea of where it is, so if you could show me that would be great,”  
Bev smiled. “Gotcha. Follow me then. See you losers later; gotta show the new kid where he’ll be staying,”  
Stan stood up and waved at everyone, then turned to follow Beverly, who was already walking away. They went out across the grass and to the main sidewalks, which weaved throughout the school grounds in a way that could only be described as labyrinthine. It was silent for some time until Beverly piped up.  
“So, Stan. Richie talks about you an awful lot, and I'm guessing based on what he's said that you two have known each other a long time. I'm not one to pry out backstories the first day I meet someone, but I just wanna fact check,”  
Stan scrunched his nose in thought before saying “Well, I met him when we were probably five or six, so it's been a good while, I'd say,”  
“Wow, that is a long time!”  
Stan nodded. He was glad they had put up with each other as long as they had. If they hadn't, Stan would be friendless and Richie would have been probably about ten times more annoying than he was today. They balanced each other out, after all, and if Richie’s life had never been put in peril by Stan neither of them would have taken life and death so seriously.  
“Stan, you're not very talkative. At all. I hate to be that stereotypical girl who is always talking, but I really feel like I need to fill in the bouts of silence,” Beverly admits. Stan looks towards the ground, feeling kind of bad.  
“Well, you can pick a topic and go from there. I can't promise I'll talk as much as, say, Richie, but I can certainly try to sustain a conversation,”  
“Hm… Okay. What kind of things do you find funny? Like not ‘this is stupid’ funny. Genuinely funny,”  
“You mean like my sense of humour? I don't really know how to explain it. No one understands my jokes and half the time it's just random words that sound funny to me that I end up laughing at for up to five minutes,”  
“Like what words?”  
Stan thought for a moment, then a word came to mind and his shoulders shook with silent, contained laughter.  
“Stan, what words? I see you laughing; you have to tell me now,” Bev pried.  
“Avocado,” he half-whispered before bursting into laughter that put his fake laughs to shame. Beverly actually joined in. She shared his sense of humour, Stan could tell. Her laugh wasn't even slightly forced; in fact it seemed more real than any laughter he had ever heard.  
“Okay, then we should get along just fine. You’ll get me,” she said after she evened out her breathing, “No one really gets me in that way, you know?”  
“Yeah. It kind of sucks until you find someone who gets it,” he agreed.  
Kindred spirits, to Stan, were one step towards feeling safe and at home wherever he was, and being able to see how Beverly acted one-on-one opened Stan’s eyes to a whole world of people similar to him. Perhaps no one else would understand his humour, but he didn't need that to know there were other people he could get along with.  
“Hey Beverly? I was wondering how it was you ended up here,”  
The redhead become very somber and stayed silent for a few minutes. “You have to be at least a level four friend to unlock my tragic backstory. Sorry,” she said as if trying to joke it away. Just like Richie. Heck, sometimes just like himself. Humour and satire and sarcasm had become less of a joke and more of a coping mechanism for the few people Stan knew, and Beverly could easily be added to the list. She forced a small smile and Stan frowned.  
“You don't have to tell me now. I was just curious,”  
“Alright. I'll tell you later, once we know each other a bit better,” she stated decidedly.  
They walked in silence for a short while longer. Upon the end of this time, they had reached a rather large two or three story house. Stan assumed it was one of the dormitory buildings. Beverly led him inside and up to the second floor. Down twisting halls all decorated and almost impossible to distinguish from one another, they came upon his room.  
“You’ll like your roommate, I'm sure. If I assume correctly, you already met him,” Beverly assured him as she opened the door.  
And she was right. He was in there, listening to music in his headphones and laying in his bed, reading. Stan figured his time at the school would be tolerable, now.


End file.
